


halfway houston st.

by bvrton



Category: Marvel
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes has a family, Bucky is "casually there" for him, Bucky needs a hug, Clint Barton Has PTSD, Clint Needs a Hug, Clint is taking a break from being Hawkeye, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, Healthy Relationships, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mood Swings, Non canon compliant, OOC (out of character), Soft Porn, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Clint Barton, and he shares it with Clint, gays wear leather (fake obviously)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:20:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29526996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bvrton/pseuds/bvrton
Summary: a collection of stories loosely orbiting around Clint Barton and the man on Houston St.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

There wasn't much to say, he wasn't a man of many words when it came to feelings either, he was never the experienced person in that particular area. So he just lowered his head and let Natasha's slender, strong fingers run through his tousled hair and pressed his lips into an uncomfortable smile as Lucky wagged his tail and sounds of dismay escaped his muzzle until Natasha left the apartment, gently closing the door.

The golden hour of dusk had passed, only the hint of purple and pink clouds combining with the deep blue of the night was present, the apartment dimly lit by the half-open curtained window. If he put a little effort, he could reflect his feelings in the pinkish cumulus clouds: they were the glimpse of the happiness his work brought him, melting into the blue night to be completely forgotten. 

He knew the captain was disappointed, his cerulean eyes revealed more than his words of encouragement, Tony understood in his complicated way, and Kate, well, he hadn't spoken to Kate in a month, but she'd probably be disappointed too. 

The thing is, Clint can no longer be the man with the bow, _the good neighbor Hawkeye_ , the best marksman. Because that was the bad thing about being a superhero, the fleeting exhilaration of victory didn't make up for the pain that death and all his friends left behind. He wasn't Clint Barton, the traumatized circus kid from Iowa when he was being an avenger, which for a time was great because Hawkeye is practical, tactical, the good man in the storm, the avenger. Clint Barton...He forgot how it felt to be the good guy when he was not wearing the glasses and the bow.

So he grabbed his apartment keys, his wallet and took two long breaths before crossing the threshold and starting to walk. Aimee nodded at him, the girl was leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette with her ears covered by her headphones, he waved back. 

The cool New York air hit his bare arms and made the T-shirt cling uncomfortably to his abdomen, even the cotton fabric was painful against the sensitive bruise in his upper quadrant. An itch settled in his nose as a particularly strong draft filtered through his nostrils, and oh lord, it was easier to blame the breeze than his stupid feelings. This felt somehow worse than when he gave Kate his bow because he knew that was momentary. His departure from the Avengers only looked permanent.

New York was noisy. Maybe not when you're a New Yorker, but he wasn't a New Yorker. He belonged nowhere and yet everywhere, an outlaw at heart who took refuge when he needed to survive, and that was all the time, for a while he thought he belonged with Natasha, turns out it wasn't the case, then he also thought he belonged with Bobbi, but that didn't work out either. And then, he gave up.

His purple converse shoes were worn, the cold could seep through the thin plastic but he didn't mind. The city lights were the same, and people passed him without a second glance. He was just an everyday guy, band-aids on his face and his arm bandaged, the day was as normal as it gets. Until he saw him.

He was in the middle of East Houston Street, half his body leaning against the black pillars of Milano's Bar, cigarette lit in his hand, but he had barely taken a puff. Black leather jacket, patched and worn, jeans and combat boots. Clint had a hard time understanding the appeal of wearing tactical clothing on the street, but the guy knew how to dress it up. He looked at him, Clint held his eyes on the soldier's and walked on until the smell of soft burning tobacco mingled with the air, the auburn-haired man flicked the ash away and took a puff as Clint leaned against the opposite pillar, looking in, past the glass doors and towards the colored lights that bathed the small bar.

"You." Said the shorter one, his tense jaw relaxing the instant the smoke left his nostrils. 

"Yes." Replied the blond. "Did you hear the news yet?" Bucky swallowed, and his Adam's apple stood out in his tanned throat, hair glistening from the artificial lights. Clint leaned the crown of his head against the door, the coolness of the glass soothing the sudden awakening of his anxiety.

"Sam mentioned it over the phone. Unless you and I are talking about two different things." He muttered, scratching the 5 o'clock shadow that covered his chin. 

"I never thought I'd be important enough for the other bird to talk about me." He jokes, eyes fixed on his now ex-partner's cigarette until he takes the hint and pulls out another. He lights the tip with his cigarette as Clint takes a puff to get it to light properly.

"He's an asshole, his job is to talk shit about other people. His bird brain can't function without him being an idiot." Bucky said, well, Bucky tried to say because that was more like a long exhalation escaping through clenched teeth. 

"You two always fight for such stupid reasons," Clint says, laughing humourlessly, the curving plumes of smoke leaving his mouth as they both step aside to let the couple who want to enter the bar pass.

They stared at each other for a while, Bucky's cigarette burned down to the filter and he extinguished it under his boot. Clint moved his head slightly to the rhythm of the music coming through the cracks in the door, "Are you tired?" Even when he knew the answer, Bucky asked anyway.

"Exhausted." Bucky hummed in understanding, Clint retreated further into the corner of the bar entrance.

"How is that nasty bruise in your abdomen?" Bucky had a special way of talking when he was with Clint. A tone of voice that would indicate that he didn't care in the least about Clint's well-being, but that façade was ruined by the softness in his eyes.

The blond lifted his shirt, revealing the black and blue bruise that rested near his ribs. The soldier's metallic fingertips made Clint's skin crawl, but he stopped holding his breath as he took a drag from his cigarette. Bucky looked impassive, touching battered skin with a newfound gentleness. "Nasty as it was." 

"Yeah." 

"Are you guys getting in anytime soon?" Asked the bartender, looking at them with bored eyes. Clint pulled down his T-shirt while Bucky searched for another cigarette in his pocket. 

"No, we're leaving." 

"We are?"

"Yes."

Clint didn't belong to a specific place. Neither did James. 

Maybe that's why the black-haired man stuck closer to the blond's good arm and the two of them walked down the street. New York and its noises. James and Clint.

"Your ass looks good in those jeans."

"Shut up."


	2. Chapter 2

Spring was one of the best seasons in New York. The weather was still cool, but not so cold that his bones ached when he got out of the comfort of his blankets.

He clenched his jaw as he sat on the bottom of the bed, reaching the nightstand for a bottle of ibuprofen, pulled out three pills and swallowed them without the need of water.

He stroked Lucky's head as the dog climbed into his bed, resting his furry head on one of the pillows. Clint grabbed a clean T-shirt from the couch and walked to the shower, trying to ignore the pain in his body as the sweatpants fell off his hips and his feet felt the frostiness of the ceramic. 

Even the warm water felt like needles digging into his scapula, the hot water would only get him sleepy and he didn't need that. He needed to get out, breathe and maybe walk Lucky, drink a coffee in a nice place. There was a little café called Allegro, nice tables outside, it would be great to spend a quiet time with Lucky and a good espresso to change things up a bit.

So he dried his body, put all his bandages in place, put on his hearing aids and grabbed Lucky's leash and his sunglasses, taking his somewhat lazy dog by surprise, as this Monday was looking very much like a stay-at-home Monday. But Clint could be unpredictable, and if anyone could deal with that it was Lucky. 

His hoodie felt warm in contrast to the cool breeze blowing in front of him. He pulled up his hood and kept walking, the dog's gentle tugging of his leash, kinda heavy in his hand, present with each step as a comforting rhythm that let him know he was not alone. Soon enough they arrived at the café, Lucky acquired a faithful sitting position while Clint looked at the menu, more out of distraction than anything, he never went to a place where he didn't know the menu before he arrived.

That part of Houston St. was kinda lonely for being an early Monday, maybe the Starbucks one block away gained more costumers than a classic coffee. He quitted going to that specific Starbucks because the barista always wrote his name as Cunt instead of Clint. It was funny though.

The smell of the coffee being roasted and ground calmed his heart little by little, Lucky rested his muzzle on his thigh and he lay a lazy hand on his fur while reading the third page of the menu for the second time. Lucky became distracted with the pigeons, he let go of his leash.

"Not so far," he whispered just as the waiter came to his side with a small notebook. "Hello." He already knew what he wanted, but he liked to look at the menu until he was asked if he was ready. "An espresso and the cookies of the day, no jelly."

"In a minute sir." He liked it when the waiters called him sir, it added importance to a simple coffee. 

"Thank you."

He stretched his neck and turned it to the left, a satisfying crunch released the pressure on the spot. He took his eyes off the waiter and turned his head, expecting to see his dog terrifying some helpless pigeons.

But there was no pigeons.

Just James kneeling and Lucky licking his right hand. The man stood up and looked at Clint and Clint absorbed the soldier's presence under his tinted glasses, black clothes accentuating the paleness of the noirette's complexion.

Lucky and the shorter one walked toward him, James took a seat in the remaining chair. "You." 

"Yes."

"What are you doing here?" Asked Barnes, adjusting the collar of his jacket. Clint looked at him over his glasses.

"...We are outside a café and I happen to like coffee, what do ya' think I'm doing here?" 

"No need to get rude Barton."

"No need to call me Barton." 

"Clint" Bucky said through his teeth, exhaling heavily. "You're annoying when it's Monday." 

"You're annoying always, even though you're a tiny pretty thing without that arm." Disinterested flirting suited Clint, it came effortlessly to him. And Bucky wasn't no schoolgirl, he wouldn't make a fuss over some insinuating tone, a little of the classic staring-at-your-lips kinda thing. Oh Lord, in what world would we be living in if Bucky Barnes decided to blush over some old fashioned flirting.

"At least here they don't write your order as Cunt." 

"You really think you're charming, don't ya' honey?"

"Yeah, sure. What did you order?" Bucky decided to change the subject. Clint's lopsided grin came into view and lit up his scarred face.

He lifted his sunglasses and settled them on the crown of his head. "An espresso and some cookies. Now, why are you so desperate to change the subject?"

"There was no subject Clint. I was doing small talk."

"I know you can tell when I'm starring at your lips." Said the blonde as the waiter came with the espresso and the cookies. Clint smiled in gratitude and started eating, Bucky just rested his head in the palm of his hand.

"Oh man, chew your food." 

"It's just cookies." 

"Cookies or not, I don't want to see your teeth mushing food."

"You don't have to see it though," Said Clint, cleaning his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. "It's simple, you just gotta stop looking at my lips, because they're part of the hole in my face that handles the food, ya' know?"

"Shut up." Bucky smiled anyways under the hand covering his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is gonna have more chapters, not all of em' will be consistent on the word count, some of them will be less than 1k, some of em' will be more.  
> hope y'all are liking it, thanks a lot for the kudos.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was two years ago. worth mentioning because some of y'all skip the beginning of the chapters. i'm a fanfiction reader too. love y'all hope y'all enjoy it.

**_2 years ago._ **

* * *

"You're shaking."

"No I'm not."

"I can't believe you're this stubborn even when you almost die Barton." Bucky closed his eyes while he sat on the chair. Sam and Steve were cleaning up the mess that some Hydra hot shots left in downtown Dovbrotel, they were fine, no good guys hurt, except for Clint that definitely needed some medical assistance. 

"Uh, bacon!" The blonde said, hissing while moving his injured arm to grab the tupperware and starting eating bacon without concern.

"Are you serious right now?" James couldn't believe his eyes. This guy was unbelievable. "Do you treat everything as a joke?" 

"God, darling, stop frowning, you're gonna get all wrinkled in no time, you're gonna look old. I mean, I know you're old, but--"

"Shut up." 

"Shut me up."

"What?" That definitely threw Bucky outta game, Barton seemed serious. He had his mouth full of bacon and his face was bruised, but there was no sign of lies in his clear blue eyes.

"You heard me, as far as I know I'm the deaf one in this relationship." And now he was smiling, leaning on a kitchen counter that belonged to some random Hydra jerk, blood still fresh on the floor and some of the furniture, but he didn't find it inappropriate to flirt in a situation like that.

"Okay, now what the hell are you even talking about? Do you have a serious concussion? God you might be bleeding from your brain or something." Bucky approached him, scanning his head, but there was no blood in his blond hair, no scalp laceration, no nothing. 

"Honey, I don't need no concussion to flirt with you. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?" 

"Clint--" And honestly? Barnes had no clue of what to do or what to say, and yeah, what the fuck are you supposed to say to your flirty partner that suddenly showed interest in you?

Clint was still leaning on the counter, still taller than James, still flirty and still a fucking menace. "Why you're so shy all of the sudden? Cap told me you were a player in the good ol' days, come on honey, I'm coming clear right here." And the archer was staring at his lips and James knew it. He wasn't naïve. 

He-- it had just been a long time since the last time.

"I don't have nothing to lose, but you gotta tell me you want this or how you wanna do this. I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable." 

"I can't commit right now. I- no sex either." And Clint smiled again, he had some swelling on his cheek but it didn't make his smile less prettier. 

"So I can kiss your lips without it bothering you, right?" And Clint was never this up-front, he always waited for the other person to make the first move. But tonight. Tonight he just couldn't wait.

So he leaned forward, his nose poked Bucky's cheek and his lips tangled when he met the wet lips of the noirette. He breathed out, pressing a firm hand in the leather-covered hip of the short one as he returned the kiss with the same energy, Bucky leaned against Clint, feeling his legs go weak as the blond rested his thumb under his jaw, keeping his head at a comfortable height for both of them. Barton hissed when James pulled up his shirt, but laughed and kissed him again, tasting the mint of the gum that the black haired man always kept in his mouth to control his anxiety a bit.

Clint opened his eyes and looked at the couch, almost pristine and in front of them, just across the kitchen and-- "What- I can't kiss you if you have your eyes open."

"Come here." The blonde walked and sat on the couch, patting his thighs. "Please me a bit honey, gotta rest this old body but I wanna keep kissing you, if you don't mind." 

"We are in a Hydra apartment Clint." 

"I cleared it out, c'mon honey." 

And Bucky did it. He sat in Clint's lap, feeling the strong muscle below him. "God you're pretty. Gotta tell you I was just teasing you when I mocked your hair, you're cute when you have that grumpy cat face." 

"Shut up and keep kissing me already." And Clint did. Hands on Bucky's hips, twirling his tongue in his neck, biting in the strong spots, Bucky wasn't noisy, but his heart was beating fast when Clint let go of his hair. 

He was mesmerized by the beauty of that man, that scarred, screwed up man that fought so hard to get it together and keep going. That precious man sitting in his lap, with those cherry lips wet and shiny. 

"Quit staring, I told you I can't kiss you if you have your eyes open."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this happens one year ago, there's some mentions of violence, nothing too serious, a character is injured too but again, nothing too serious. enjoy.

**_1 year ago._ **

* * *

The stench of blood, disgustingly metallic and almost tastable on his tongue made him look back, Steve was still fighting with two guys outside the shed he and Clint were sheltering in for a few moments. The blond was holding his side, the bow discarded on the short old table next to him, his breath trembled. James had never seen the man like that. Clint was very good at hiding his pain, he also hated going to the emergency wing so he prevented himself from getting hurt. In the dim light of the shed, he managed to see the wound in his abdomen, probably between his ribs, it was deep and bleeding profusely, staining Clint's tactical gear, blood looking black in the moonlight. But it was also dry on the sides, that wound was at least three hours old, three hours in which Clint had been jumping roofs, running, shooting his arrows and pretending nothing was happening.

"C'mon honey, don't frown at me like that would ya'?" He tried to flirt, but his face was pale, full of small cuts and a laceration on his head made his blond hair stained red. Bucky felt the same thing he felt every time Steve put his chest out in front of a fucking grenade or some shit like that. Fear and fury combining in his chest, gnawing at his heart. The asshole Barton already had a place in there, and it scared the shit out of James. 

He couldn't lose his stupid tall shitty fuck-frenemie. 

"Imma get you outta here, you dickhead. You're not dying on me. Not today." Bucky might be shorter, but he was stronger and he had a will that anyone should fear, because he's not leaving this shithole without his man. "Hold on Clint. C'mon. Let Stark now we're taking a detour, I'm gonna get you to--"

"No hospital. Rather die on ya." 

"Don't you dare you stupid ass motherfu--" Clint grabbed his Glock and shoot a guy at his back just when they were getting out of the shed. 

"Watch that mouth, didn't know you get so dirty when your coworkers are dying. Shoulda' tried that earlier if I knew." 

"When you're alright I'm gonna kick your ass from here to Sunday I promise you." He was getting even more worried. Clint sounded so tired and less flirtatious than before. 

"Rather you fuck my ass from here to Sunday." He answered, and his blood stained Bucky's gear a bit more. The soldier hold him tight still. 

"Guys we can hear you." They both heard Steve's voice through the intercom. Clint laughed. "There's medical on your way, just wait for a bit." 

"Barnes if we don't make it in time for British Bake-Off, I...I will probably start crying." 

"Imma get you to your baking show doll, just hang on for me, would ya'?" 

"M'kay." But Clint's eyelids got more heavier the more they waited. Bucky was hiding them both in a short alley, but he wasn't shooting anyone anymore. 

Natasha was in Brazil looking for information, so Clint didn't have his best friend to help him get through the awfulness of the emergency wing and doctors, so when the van came in and they helped him get Clint inside, Bucky couldn't let go. 

"You coming?" 

"Don't get too smiley. I don't go away without finishing the job." 

But Bucky sounded worried, not angry. 

Clint just smiled at him while they poked him with needles. "You're gonna take me on a date to that fancy italian thing at the end of Houston St., right?" 

"And you're gonna doll yourself up and you're gonna love the ravioli." 


	5. Chapter 5

The doorbell rings on a Thursday morning. He knows because the somewhat tiny red light in his room turns on every time someone rings the bell. After all, without his hearing aids he wouldn't know and probably would never answer the door. Clint is definitely not gonna make it to the cover of a super model's magazine with the geezer clothes he's got on, but he gets out of bed anyway, out shaped brown-ish hoodie, purple sweatpants that had seen a better day and his comfy slippers. Lucky was with Suzanne, yesterday hadn't been a good day so he dropped the dog with his neighbor so the little guy could have some peace for a day.

It's Bucky the one outside his door. And he takes a good look at him _and Clint wants to cry_. Not because it's too early to deal with James, it's because he's wearing shitty clothes and the guy is probably here for a sex date and he looks _gorgeous_ with his gorgeous bloody white shirt and his faux leather jacket--

"Why are ya' covered in blood?!" He throws James inside his apartment and the guy just stands there, looks down at his shirt, and smiles. 

What the fuck is going on?

"So- about that... I ran into Frank hours ago while he was shooting up this drug dealers up in Queens and things got interesting. He dropped me here." He signed, knowing that Clint didn't sleep with his hearing aids on. The blonde walked to his room to put them on and stared at Bucky till it came out:

"Frank Castle?! You ran into the fucking Punisher and you didn't call me. Or Sam." Yes, and of course it was the Punisher the one Bucky ran into. The guy wasn't a major problem, he kinda got a deal with Matt and everything was calmer since that, but either way, Clint didn't trust Castle as Bucky did. The two snipers got movie nights and cleaned his guns together like to good ol' pals and yeah, that was fine by Barton, but from there to shooting people together in the middle of fucking Queens? No.

"Yeah, basically. Well, it's 6 a.m. and I'm kinda hungry so, wanna have breakfast at Joe's?" To say Clint wanted to kick Bucky's ass was an understanding.

"It's 6 a.m., you woke me up at 6 a.m. to drive yo' ass down SoHo to get a shitty burger?" And the fucker nodded.

"And semi-public sex in your car." He was high. Or maybe Clint had never seen him so light like now. He was kinda smiling and he wasn't frowning. He was acting like that guy of Steve's old stories, like the ladies man he used to be. 

"Yeah, just- go change, there are clean clothes in my closet. They're gonna be big on you but you can pull it off." He chooses to take a quick shower and when he goes to his room to get some clothes on, Bucky is wearing a light lavender t-shirt with the Daredevil logo in it in deep purple. Jessica had them made just to piss Matt off and Clint was all in when it came to pissing the devil off. 

He chose a black clean-ish T with light washed off blue jeans and his worn purple converse, he threw a cozy cardigan on because it was freezing and he hated getting cold. "Take the keys, they're hanging beside the door. They're Suzanne's keys to her car, she let me borrow it sometimes. You're driving by the way."

"You don't like how I drive."

"I can live with that." Bucky drove slowly like the old man he was when they were out of duty, and it pissed Clint off but whatever, he was tired and he didn't want to argue two days in a row. Yesterday he got in a pretty nasty fight with Kate and he was just exhausted.

Bucky stopped when they got out of the building, he looked at the keys and then at Clint. "Look, I'm sorry, you don't have to go if you don't want to. I'm just having a pretty good day, I went to therapy yesterday and the lady said I made some progress and ya' know, I'm taking every small victory." 

"Hey, I'm the one who's sorry. I just- nevermind. Drive and let's get a burger, I'm hungry too." And yes, he might have caressed Bucky's cheek, but no one had to know that except for them. 

Then they got there and the conversation started spinning towards Sam and his worries about Bucky's triggers. "And in movie nights, he always picks these lame movies that literally no one likes, he makes this face when I say 'Let's watch Game of Thrones because I'm a grown ass man! And then Steve makes his dad face and he looks at me really serious and he starts 'Bucky, I don't think that's appropriate, I'm older than him!" 

And Clint is trying not to laugh because Bucky is pretty serious about what he's saying, but it's really, really hard. "And ya' know, Frank and I watch horror movies, the really gory ones because we like them. And I thought it was the same with Romanov and Sam, but when I suggested we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre they almost put me into the psych ward! That movie ain't a trigger, you know what's a real trigger for me? Bambi." 

Clint couldn't hold it any longer. He laughed so hard he felt the soda he drank minutes earlier getting up to his nose and he had to hold his stomach, while Bucky smiled big and started laughing with him. They never did this kind of thing. They had a date once, almost a year ago and then they drifted apart, it wasn't the right time for them, but maybe now it was. This wasn't Italian fancy food, it was just a greasy burger in a diner, but it was better than the fancy date at the candle lights. Bucky was laughing, so wholeheartedly that they could be eating garbage and it would still be an amazing breakfast date. 

"You're gonna spend the day with me. At night I'm gonna drop you off in the compound and _you're gonna kiss me goodbye_. Okay?" 

"Okay." 

And the burger wasn't the best part. It just got better. 

They drove to Brooklyn Heights and Bucky walked with his hands in his pocket, close to Clint while he started telling him stories about a young Steve, about his sister. "Becca married a good guy, and they had Jess, an absolutely amazing woman. Jess had the twins, Charlie and Pete. Then they had Tobby, who's a senior in high school. We can drop by if you want. My sister does a killer cappuccino." 

Were they there? He didn't know. I mean, Bucky meet accidentally Barney once and he kicked his ass pretty good, but that doesn't mean that they were in the 'meet the family' part yet. "It's okay if you don't want to."

He was going to say no, but what came out of his mouth was: "Let's go. I want some cappuccino." 

And then they were driving to Clinton Hill and Clint was nervous. Really, really nervous. This wasn't a quick date on somewhere cheap in Houston St. to fuck later. This was a real date with a real family that probably loved Bucky a lot. 

In ten minutes, they were outside an old but pretty two-stories house. Bucky smiled at him and then he got out of the car, he held Clint's hand and he rang the doorbell. After half a minute, a small old lady popped out of the house, bright eyes just like Bucky's and the same thin smile. "Hey, Becca." 

"Bucky!" He holds her softly and lets her put a kiss on his forehead. "Leo, Bucky is here!" And then an old man was in the door too, hugging Bucky tight, three kids that seemed to be a freshman in college were in the door too, and they also hugged Bucky. Then all the eyes were on him and the way he was looking at the black-haired man with such delight. 

"You're not gonna introduce us to the hot stuff here?" The kid said, she was tall and skinny, short-haired with a lot of freckles, but she had Bucky's crooked smile. 

"Clint, this is Charlie, my great-niece. The shy blonde guy there is Pete, and the scrawny short kid that looks a lot like me is Tobby. The cute lady at the table is Jess and she's currently without her hearing aids so she probably doesn't hear all the fuss. Next to her is his husband Terry, who doesn't give a shit about us." 

"I love you Buck, but my fantasy football game is not gonna win itself." He signed to his wife that they were visits and she stood up, Clint signed to her introducing himself and she smiled big. 

"This one's a keeper." She whispered when she hugged Bucky. Clint heard it anyways.

There were a lot of cappuccinos and homemade bagels with homemade strawberry jelly that tasted so good that Clint wasn't sure that he could ever taste another strawberry jelly after that. There was pasta too, Charlie talked about her girlfriend and Tobby about how much he liked being in the science club and how good it would look in his MIT application. Pete was quiet, but he smiled a lot and he ate only vegetables. He looked a lot like a younger, blonde version of his dad. 

"You're Hawkeye?" Pete asked. The family was sitting in the living room and Bucky was laughing with them, Clint was in the kitchen, getting some more coffee.

"Uh- not now? I mean, yes, but no? I- I'm taking a break from him right now." 

"Oh, that's okay. My sister says that you should always take a break from the things that don't feel right. Please tell me if I'm bothering you because I don't pick on social cues very easily." He spoke softly and gently, his face showing all of his emotions. He looked young for a college freshman.

"It's not bothering me at all. Your sister's very wise." He said, smiling kindly to him while sitting on the tall chair near the counter. Pete sat next to him. 

"I don't think you remember me. But you and Daredevil saved me five years ago. I was getting mugged and a big guy was hitting me really hard near Hell's Kitchen. You gave me tissues and twenty dollars to get a cab and a sandwich after you and Daredevil made sure I was in good shape."

"Oh! Little blonde kid with big glasses! I remember you. You went to the hospital first and your mom picked you up afterward." He remembers because that day he saw Matt kissing Frank on a rooftop and he still picked on him for that. 

"You're the best avenger. Don't tell my uncle that I said that." But Bucky was smiling in the kitchen door, Clint has heard him walk towards them. 

"Oh, I know he is. We all know he is the best." He said, and he wasn't trying to flirt or make it cute, but he was smiling big, leaning on Clint's shoulder. Clint didn't correct him, he wasn't an avenger but the kid shouldn't have to lose his smile. It was a pretty day, not a sad-Clint-Barton day.

"Aren't y'all cute?" Charlie said, leaving a kiss on top of Pete's head. The kid's face lit up and he stared at his sister wide-eyed. 

"They're flirting?" He asked, whispering but not too effectively. 

"Yeah, they are." She whispered back, and the kid smiled. 

"Are you guys a couple?" 

"Uh. No." Clint said, smelling Bucky's cologne thanks to his proximity. "But I really do like your uncle." 

He heard the way Bucky swallowed, how he breathed out all the air he'd been holding and how his hand landed in the lower back of Clint, doing some small soft circles in there as a way of caressing him. 

"Do you have a dog?"

And then, they both stayed with the family till midnight.

(Clint drove Bucky to the compound, and kissed him dirty near the huge glass doors.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to imagine that bucky has a huge ass family out there, that he goes to visit them a lot and they just love him. because he's precious and amazing. 
> 
> also, bucky's mood swings are inspired in me btw. with years of counseling i got better but i felt the same way as bucky when i just focused on my little victories. 
> 
> i hope y'all liked this. lots of love.

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, I apologize for every grammatical error, second, I really hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.  
> lots of love.


End file.
